Yuuta lowered his head until his chin nearly touched his chest, his back curved in a deep bow that would have made the butlers of old England proud.
"My master, this humble servant stands ready to serve at your command."
He kept his eyes fixed on the floor, not daring to look up at the woman lounging on the sofa.
He could feel her gaze on him, sharp and amused, and he knew that she was enjoying this far more than she should.
The silence stretched between them, thick and heavy, broken only by the soft rustle of her turning a page in the book she had abandoned beside her.
Erza watched him from her perch on the worn cushions, her legs crossed at the ankle, her chin resting on her hand.
She studied the line of his back, the way his dark hair fell across his forehead, the slight tremor in his hands that he was trying so hard to hide.
He was hers to command, at least for the next seven days, and the thought sent a thrill through her that she would never admit to feeling.
